


remnants of a time

by antarcticas



Series: dee's zk tumblr requests [1]
Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: F/M, ba sing se season 2 au, kind of generic, maybe canon compliant?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-08
Updated: 2020-10-08
Packaged: 2021-03-07 17:08:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,620
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26891209
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/antarcticas/pseuds/antarcticas
Summary: She wonders, briefly, who has ever touched him; the ugly skin across his face looks like a hand mark.
Relationships: Katara/Zuko (Avatar)
Series: dee's zk tumblr requests [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1961932
Comments: 5
Kudos: 63





	remnants of a time

**i.**

Katara stands in front of him. And then she blinks; and then she keeps staring. Zuko's features look utterly, completely, unreservedly terrified. He looks like he is about to fall apart, right then, as she takes him in.

He has tracked her and Aang across the entire world, and she does not know what he is doing here, but she feels, for some reason, guilty. Her heart beats against her chest wildly.

She should go tell the others about this. She lifts her foot up, and the prince looks like she has just started stomping on all of his hopes and dreams. She knows that gaze, marred as it is, all too well.

So she steps forward, feet pounding the pavement until she is truly right in front of him. Her voice wavers.

"I'd like some tea, please."

**ii.**

The girl keeps coming back to the teahouse. He wants her to leave. She is just a reminder of his past and she holds so much power over him. He doesn't like that. He wants her to leave.

On her fifth day she reaches a hand out and grabs his arm. She has been wearing this strange facade, acting absolutely nonchalant, and his fingers flex as his mind readies him for a fight. But her grasp is light and she lets go when he turns around.

"You owe me an explanation," she says.

"I'm not here to hurt you," he shudders out.

"I know." Her cool eyes are blue but they bear fiery holes into him. She gestures towards the kitchen, where Iroh is watching this strange conversation. "I still want to know."

**iii.**

He shudders when he's near her, and she finds that strange. But some part of her feels at peace when she flops up onto the kitchen table. He had moved away when she had come close to him -

She wonders, briefly, who has ever touched him; the ugly skin across his face looks like a hand mark.

"You're not trying to capture us."

It's a statement, and he doesn't respond. Iroh exits the door and slams it shut behind him until it is the two of them, just them, facing each other amongst roaring teapots.

"No."

"Why?"

"This - this is fine."

"That's not what I - why did you want to capture us, in the first place?"

His left eye is slanted and his lips curl down. She doesn't think she has ever seen him smile. "It doesn't matter. I'm fine now. You should leave."

"I don't want to."

"Look, waterbender -"

"My name is Katara," she lilts, so curious; he glares further.

"Look, Katara. Let me go. I don't want to cause any trouble."

She slides off the table and heads to the backdoor, pausing to give him one last long look. It seems searching. "It's my turn, Prince Zuko."

**iv.**

"Moonpeach bun today," she requests, and he doesn't say anything to that, just stands there with his brow tilted quizzically. She looks up a moment later. "What? I'm hungry."

She has never bought food here, before; something is changing, but the metal clamp over his heart almost releases itself.

"Okay," he says.

"Okay," she replies.

**v.**

One day she comes in and he is not here. She knows his schedule, the patterns; she walks up to the desk and asks the old man there what has happened. He seems to note her interest with a quirk of his lips.

"Lee is sick," he tells her. "He isn't here today."

She has seen this boy in both poles, has frozen him intimately. It's strange to think that the warrior who kept fighting with his eyes bruised and body aching would succumb to the ills of the flesh. "Where is he?"

"Should I trust you, Master Katara?"

"You know -"

"I know a lot of things. And I care for my nephew," he frowns, but she feels validated. "Come back."

**vi.**

"How did you manage to get an infection here?" a voice sounds from above him, and he winces in pain at its high note. That does not sound like Uncle.

"W--what?"

His right eye blearily opens and he wants to jump away when he's faced with that deep, startling blue. Katara does not seem angry over him. Now that he is alert his nerves are tingling, and he looks down to see her hands on his bare chest. Color rises to his cheek, but she seems unaffected.

"You seem to enjoy hurting yourself," she says almost teasingly, but she does not even know half the truth. Zuko is not good at taking care of himself, and he had left this wound to fester. He does not always mind being Lee, but sometimes he feels that this life will never be enough.

Now, he is slightly lucid. "Why are you here?"

Her hands glow, clinically, on his chest. "I'm healing you."

"Why?"

Her features, gorgeous in the night's light, dim. "That doesn't matter."

**vii.**

He is different, now. He is calmer at a surface level, but she sees a fire that lives within; his blood feels like it is boiling.

She's curious about what lies further; she knows she should not be.

**viii.**

"That girl knows we're firebenders," he whispers, and Uncle turns.

"Of course Master Katara knows the truth. What is the problem?"

"I wasn't talking about her -" But she's here, still, and she walks right up to him at the counter. It has been different, after the day she showed up to his apartment. It has been something tentative, something like friendship.

"Hi," she says breathlessly, and he can't help himself.

"Hi."

They stare at each other before Iroh's sharp whistle draws them out of this; a brown head turns and leaves the shop in the distance.

**ix.**

There is some sort of festival in the streets, and she avoids dancing performers to wander into an almost empty shop. Pao is not there, so she steps into the kitchen freely; neither men inside are surprised to see her there.

"What's going on?" she asks. Zuko reaches next to him and places a steaming cup of tea in her hands. He is not wearing his apron right now; he looks different. He looks less broad and more defined, and she likes looking at him. She does.

"The Celebration of the Lotus Sky," Iroh says cheerfully. "A nice parade, no? You should be out there, Master Katara." Something lies unspoken; where is the Avatar? Aang would love this, but he is busy with Toph. She frowns thinking about it and almost drops the cup. Zuko places his hand right in front of her, and she smiles at him.

A strange sort of hope is blooming in her chest. "It sounds fun."

Zuko looks like he is struggling with something for a moment. Iroh takes that time to leave. But then he looks at her, golden eyes looking strangely innocent, and speaks. "Yeah, it does."

**x.**

Something comes together under that sky; lanterns float by them, and she gets him to actually speak once they find a vendor selling Fire Nation cuisine.

She pays for him, and he does not know how to feel about that. He is distracted as they walk through the streets, as she seems young and jubilant. Here, she is just Katara. Not a master, not calculated; she is just here. She is not playing games with him.

It feels nice, because everyone plays games with him.

She pulls him to a fountain after they've exhausted the path, and his cheeks are hurting with laughter for the first time since . . . since his mother had died. She had tried to make him dance and accepted his shake of a head; she had laughed over noodles with him, had made funny faces in mirrors until his smile moved. She had tried, and that makes all the difference.

The sconces are unlit, and she looks at them wistfully. He wishes he could light them, but he cannot risk that, and that leaves him disappointed in himself.

And then Katara leans herself up against his shoulder, and he feels like he could burn down this entire city with the fire that rages within him.

He does not know if there is something here. He almost wishes that there was.

**xi.**

Nothing good ever lasts. She feels like she had something fragile, like she is about to break it here, sitting on the floor of the Crystal Catacombs.

"That's something we have in common," he says, and she cannot resist walking over to him. She places her hand on his scar, and he does not look scared when her thumb skims his lip. He does not look resigned. He looks peaceful.

Then something breaks and she turns away, and he sees the Avatar, and his heart stops beating.

**xii.**

She sees him look at her, at his sister. Isn't the choice obvious? She is right here. They have created something here, carved it out in the tea house. She is right here. But Aang is also right here, and she does not know how to verbalize her feelings like that.

That is her mistake. He asks her a question with his eyes, and she freezes.

**xiii.**

He wants her to tell him that this will not be worth it. He wants her to lay her head on his shoulder and stop him from doing this. Because he remembers the fish in the pond, and he thinks about good and evil, and he does not know.

He needs her to have faith in him.

She hesitates, and she looks at the Avatar, and all he can feel is rage.

**xiv.**

"I trusted you," she screams.

**xv.**

"Not enough," he doesn't say.

/

**Author's Note:**

> lol this was requested on tumblr by @colourtheworldwithrainbows and it's posted there and everything (the prompt was t swift's betty which I ruptured) and I just sort of liked it so I'm keeping it here to archive properly :) thank you for reading! I do take oneshot prompts on my tumblr (@antarcticasx) if you want one!


End file.
